Sight
by girleffect
Summary: It was a sight to behold. T/Z and Sophie grow, together. A sequel to Dawn.
1. Chapter 1: When I Grow Up

**Hello all, I have missed you. I have been working really hard on this, and it's near completed, so hopefully updates will be pretty consistent. This is a follow up to my story, Dawn, and it won't make sense if you haven't read that, so, yeah. **

**A most special thank you to Mecha—you push me to write better, and I'm grateful for that. **

**I can't wait to see what you guys think. Review? **

**Happy New Year to all. Xoxo. **

Chapter 1: When I Grow Up

"_When I grow up, I want to be a forester._

_Run through the moss on high heels. _

_That's what I'll do, throwing out a boomerang, _

_Waiting for it to come back to me."_

_First Aid Kit, When I Grow Up. _

Tony and Ziva wandered into what would be Sophie's new kindergarten classroom come Monday. _Welcome! Shalom! Bonjour! Bienvenidos! _, a small, colorful sign on the door read. There was a picture of a globe surrounded by children of all different shapes, sizes and nationalities holding hands. Their cartoon faces smiled widely. Tony saw one that had Sophie's long brown curls and swore it winked up at him.

Cubbies. A colorful rug. Stacks upon stacks of picture books. Blocks, and low tables with tiny chairs for his tiny daughter and her tiny classmates.  
>"Think I could fit in one of those?" He joked, and Ziva smirked at him.<p>

"I doubt it—not after all those years of pizza and beer. Come, there are Tony sized seats over here," and with that she led him to a cluster of folding chairs. A petite young woman with short blonde hair and big green eyes clapped her hands together. _1,2,3, eyes on me_.

"Good evening everyone!" Was she the perkiest person he'd ever seen? "I'm Jennifer Wheeler, and I'll be your kids' kindergarten teacher this year. The school puts this night together so that parents feel ready to send your kids off to school on Monday. Kindergarten is a big transition, and not just for the students. This is your chance to ask me questions about what this year is going to look like for your child." She paused and gave the crowd a big smile.

"So," Jennifer continued. "A little bit about me. This is my fifth year as a head kindergarten teacher. I am so excited for this new school year and excited to spend it with your dear children—we have a lot of good stuff planned. I want to get down to business right away, because I'm sure you're all anxious to get home back to your kids. Please say your name and your child's name before speaking so I can start putting faces to names."

A mother in the front row raised her hand and was called on. "Shana Lowell, Josh's mom. Are our kids going to be forced to take the Common Core standardized tests?" Her voice was deep and accusatory.

Jennifer kept her smile plastered on. "Unfortunately, yes. The state now requires us to adhere to the Common Core Standards Program, and that does mean implementing a system of standardized testing. We are working to integrate these benchmarks into our traditional Montessori curriculum, however it _is_ a divergence from what we would normally do."

Tony looked at Ziva with wide eyes. She nodded back at him with a narrow, angry gaze. He looked around the small audience and could feel a mutiny forming.

"I understand that this is not ideal, however we are doing our best to ensure that your children receive the most creative and enriching Montessori education, while still preparing them for the tests. I can assure you that I strive to keep this environment one of safety and learning."

"Is it just one test?" Another parent called out.

"No. Within the first month of school, we are required to administer six standardized tests—"

Chatter exploded, all decorum forgotten. Tony wanted to rear up like a mountain lion. Or hop in the car and go home, where Sophie would be asleep in her bed in her little girl pajamas. Was she really old enough for all of this? He struggled to maintain his focus for the rest of the meeting.

They were home earlier than expected—it was only 7:48 when they walked through the door. Tony expected Sophie to leap off the sofa and into his arms, but what he got instead was a mournful little _Daddy_ from where she lay on the couch with a cool compress over her eyes. Her purple glasses rested on the end table. The lights had been dimmed.

"What's wrong, munchkin?" He cooed, worried. She didn't say anything, but reached towards the sound of his voice without taking the compress off. He scooped her up and she burrowed her face in his neck.

"Headache," Gibbs supplied from where he sat at the other end of the couch, coffee and paper in hand.

"_Shaifeleh, _does your head hurt?" Ziva whispered, and smoothed Sophie's hair back. They got sniffles as their tearful reply.

"She doesn't have a fever," Gibbs reported, but Ziva ignored him.

"Let me feel your _kepi_, baby", she cooed, and pressed the back of her hand to Sophie's forehead. It was cool and dry.

"Gave her some Tylenol a half hour ago, but it hasn't done much. Those glasses might not be working."

_No shit_, Tony thought_. _Sophie had been squinting and having more trouble reading her books within the past month- the eye doctor had prescribed new lenses, but they had to be special ordered, and were still waiting for them to come in. "Thanks, Boss."

Gibbs smirked and opened the front door. "Anytime. Feel better, kiddo."

The door closed behind him and Ziva plucked Sophie from his arms. "It is bed time, _Shaifeleh_. We will wash up and go straight to bed."

"With you," Sophie maintained, rubbing her left eye furiously.

"With me," Ziva promised, and headed up the stairs.

…..

Sophie's new glasses came in the mail just in time for her first day of kindergarten. They were purple, which was good, but it was still hard to see. It hurt to look sometimes because she saw two where she knew there was one.

She picked out her outfit for the first day all by herself, which was what big girls did. Sophie was going to wear her denim overalls that were really a dress with little flowers on it, and her shiny new shoes and brand new socks that were bright bright white. Ema did her hair special in two pigtail braids and sprayed it with sweet smelling spray so that her beautiful braids would stay nice and shiny. She had a brand new pink backpack with owls on it. Inside there were pencils and markers and a change of clothes and her very favorite storybook, _Chrysanthemum._

Ema and Daddy took lots and lots of pictures before all three of them got in the car and drove down their leafy green street all the way to her new school. There were lots of kids walking inside with their parents, and some grown up kids running up and down the steps without their moms or dads. The school looked bigger than the first time she saw it—could buildings grow? Sophie wanted to go home then, but Ema opened the car door and said, _"Are you ready, motek?" _and Sophie nodded. She held both their hands instead of getting picked up because she was in kindergarten now. They walked all the way inside and to a classroom with lots of kids. She remembered it from when she and Ema had come to visit, but it was real now with kids and parents and teachers. The lights were very bright and the colors all shouted at her.

"Can you find your name, _shaifeleh_?" Ema asked, pointing to all the cubbies. Sophie squinted, but the letters went all _whoosh_ and she couldn't find it, even though she knew how to spell her name—_S-O-P-H-I-E._ She guessed and was lucky she got it right.

"Hi, Sophie! How you doing? Excited for the first day?" Her teacher asked. She had a big smile and a bigger voice. Sophie tried to say _I want to go home_, but instead she hid behind Daddy's legs. His work pants smelled good and crisp, like the dry cleaners. Both Daddy and Ema _and_ Jennifer the teacher bent down.

"I think Sophie is feeling a little overwhelmed," Ema said, and rubbed her back.

"That is normal. Most of the other kids are nervous, too. We can go do coloring table or pretend—what sounds good to you?"

_Nothing. _"Coloring," she whispered, and they all went over to a table where lots of kids were drawing and playing Play-Doh.

"Look at all this, Sophie! You love Play-Doh!" Daddy said, and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down and started to roll a worm, but then another little girl was crying _Mommy!_ and Sophie looked and looked. The hot-and-cold-all-over feeling washed over her and Ema gave her a big hug. It was warm and soft. _Ema_ was warm and soft.

"You are going to have such a good time, my sweet girl. There are so many fun things to do and lots of nice children to play with. You will hardly even notice we are gone, and Daddy and I will be here to pick you up at 3 o' clock just like we talked about."

She hugged Ema tighter and tighter and then Ema pulled back and gave her a kiss. Daddy gave her one too and said "_I am so proud of you, pumpkin," _and then they did one last hug before it was time for them to go.

Sophie started to cry but then a little girl tapped her on the shoulder and held out a Play-Doh butterfly. She had bangs and a pink barrette in her red hair. She had glasses, too. Sophie didn't know any other kids with glasses.

"Don't cry. My name is April and we can play so you're not sad anymore. What's your name?"

"Sophie," she sniffled, and took the butterfly. April had blue nail polish on her fingers—Sophie liked that.

"Want to cook dinner?" April asked, holding up a cut out shaped like a pancake.

"Yeah," Sophie said, but then Jennifer the teacher clapped her hands and said, _"It's clean up time!_" so they had to put everything away.

April took Sophie's hand. "Sit with me at circle time?" She asked.

How did she know what was coming next? "Ok," Sophie said, and some of lonely went away.

They sang songs and did counting and the alphabet. The letters that Jennifer held up kept moving. That made it hard to know which letter was which, even though she was good at her _ABCs_. April knew, though. Sophie was glad April was her friend because she knew everything. She had _three_ older brothers and a baby sister called Jamie and something called _die-a-bee-tees,_ which meant she always had to wear a special silver bracelet with red on it. It was also why she had to leave class sometimes to go to Nurse Lois to get her sugar checked with a needle. April liked to show off her Band-Aids and the box on her tummy.

Kindergarten was longer than Pre-K. Sophie had to eat her lunch at the blue table instead of at home with Ema. Lunch at home with Ema was better, but lunch at kindergarten with April was ok, too. They both had hummus, but April ate hers with carrots and not pita like Sophie. After lunch they had recess, which meant they got to play outside on the playground. Sophie fell down and scraped her knee because it was hard to see where the stairs met the ground. April volunteered to take her to the nurse because she knew the way, but then Sophie bumped into the Nurses desk when they were inside. Nurse Lois wanted to test her eyes, but that was silly because Sophie already _knew_ her eyes were bad. She made a fuss so she could go back to the classroom.

Before pick up time they got to do quiet reading. Sophie picked out _Brave Irene_ but had to stop looking because all the whooshing was giving her another headache. She got those a lot now because of her bad eyes. She was happy when Ema and Daddy came to pick her up so she could go home. Ema would make the hurt stop.

…

Sophie ran to them on clumsy, tripping feet when they came to the door. Ziva opened her arms into a hug and her heart rate slowed a little. There was her baby, whole and _ok_ after her first big day of school. For whom had this been more traumatic?

"How was it, Soph?" Tony begged, and she shrugged.

"Did you make any new friends?" Ziva asked, looking around at all the other children.

"April," Sophie reported seriously.

"Where is she?" Tony asked, craning his neck. Ziva frowned at the new bruise on Sophie's forehead.

"Did you bump?" Ziva wondered, and Sophie answered absently without looking at her.

"Yeah, an my knee. There's April!" She pointed across the room to a small redhead with freckles and big brown eyes. She was showing off a watercolor painting to her own mother, who looked altogether suburban and homey. She carried a baby on her chest, wrapped in meters upon meters of soft fabric. Ziva felt a pang of jealously low in her belly.

"Let's go say hi," Tony proposed, but Sophie hung back. "I want to go _home_," she whined, and stomped her little foot.

Ziva took her small hands in hers. "It is polite to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for playing before you leave."

April was seated in a little chair. She sucked on a juice box while her mom gathered up her things. "Bye, April" Sophie mumbled, and she waved back.

"I'll see you tomorrow and we can do art!" April said enthusiastically.

Her mother turned around with a hand on her baby's head. "You must be Sophie—April has been talking about how you played together today since I got here."

Sophie nodded shyly, and hid a little. Ziva stuck out her hand, feigning confidence. "I am Ziva, Sophie's mother, and this is Tony, her father." She got a warm, firm handshake in return.

"Laura, April's mom."

There was a noise from inside the bundle, and Ziva peered down into the baby's sweet face. She wanted to reach out and touch her baby soft cheek. "And who is this?"

"That's my sister, Jamie. She's a baby." April supplied.

"She is very beautiful. I am sure you are an excellent big sister."

"I am."

Laura smiled, but looked a little harried. "We should get the girls together for a play date sometime. Here is my number- send me a text anytime. I'm sorry to rush, but I have to catch their teacher and remind her to stick to the schedule I gave her this morning—April's blood sugar was too low when I got here."

Ziva pocketed the business card and noticed the glucose blood test monitor on the table for the first time.

"Good juice, kiddo?" Tony asked, and flashed his winning smile. April nodded enthusiastically. The straw gurgled when she came up for air.

"I understand. Perhaps I will see you at drop-off tomorrow?" Ziva asked.

"You sure will. Bye Sophie—thanks for playing with April."

Sophie nodded and tugged on Ziva's hand, disinterested.

"Let's head out, sweet pea," Tony announced, and Sophie took his hand.

"Home."

"Yeah, baby," he sighed, content. "We're going home".


	2. Chapter 2: Emmylou

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Chapter 2: Emmylou

"_Oh the bitter winds are coming in,_

_And I'm already missing the summer. _

_Star comes cold but I've been told_

_I was born to endure this kind of weather."_

_First Aid Kit, Emmylou_

"Can I carry the pizza inside to Ema, Daddy?" Sophie asked as Tony drove down their tree line street and pulled into the driveway. Fall was coming—leaves crunched under his shoes as he hopped out and opened her door. Sophie still needed help unbuckling her five-point harness—fine motor skills were not her strength.

"I don't know, Soph. It's pretty hot—want to feel?" She nodded and reached to lay a hand on top of the pizza box where it sat in the passengers seat.

"It _is_ hot. You can do it, Daddy," she allowed, and climbed out of the car. Sophie stumbled a little, unsteady.

"You ok, kiddo?"

She ignored him and made her way up the walk to their front porch. Tony saw Ziva sitting at the kitchen table, landline pressed to her ear. Something about her posture put him at attention, and he dug the keys out of his pocket. Sophie made her way inside, little sneakers making soft footfalls on the hard wood. Ziva poked her head out of the kitchen with one finger in the air, indicating that she needed a moment.

"Yes, I'm still here," she reassured the caller, and retreated. Sophie looked befuddled, but kicked off her shoes.

"Go wash your hands while I set the table, ok?" He requested, setting the steaming hot pizza box down on the coffee table. They didn't have any pets to paw it open and devour their dinner.

"I'm clean," she whined, but went ahead anyway. He heard Ziva hang up and went to her, curious.

"What was that about?"

"That was Sophie's teacher. We will need to talk after dinner." His stomach turned.

"What's up?"

Her face was unreadable, as it had been when she'd first arrived, all fierce and hurt and _young_. "I am not exactly sure, but she wants us to come in for a parent teacher conference—something about Sophie's recent test scores." She said _test scores_ with the same contempt that people had for terrorists or famine. Someone lit a match and a fire rose in his chest.

"Those things are _bullshit_ and you know it, Ziva."

She frowned at his language but nodded. "I agree, but it is still crucial that we cooperate with her teachers. They would not call us in for a meeting unless it was important, Tony."

He sighed. Did she ever get tired of always being right?

"Can I pick my slice, Ema?" Sophie asked, popping up out of nowhere.

Ziva smiled sadly and picked her up. "Yes, of course, my _shaifeleh_."

"I have to pick before Daddy or he'll eat it all up. Right, Daddy?"

He had to smile. Their kitchen felt _full_. Their whole house felt full and happy and warm. "You bet, baby. I am a pizza _fiend_."

…

Sophie had to miss school and go to a special kind of eye doctor with Ema and Daddy because Dr. Blake sent her away from her bright office because her eyes were too broken. Maybe _Sophie_ was too broken.

She was mad at Jennifer the Teacher because she tattled about her falling down and bumping and the test that was so hard and swirly it made her cry. Sophie _knew_ she did stupid before she even finished because April and all the other kids finished before her and got to go outside and play and her face got hot and she wanted to hide forever.

Ema and Daddy had a meeting with Jennifer to talk about Sophie and she was so worried and angry that she wouldn't even play with Abby in her lab, not even when she said they could make a volcano. Sophie just sat in the corner and stomped her feet because it felt _bad_ to have everyone talk about her and find out how stupid she was. She bet April would find out too and not want to be her friend anymore. Then what?

Abby called Gibbs to come down to her lab, and he said _what's eatin' you, kiddo,_ but she just hid her face and covered her ears. He told Abby to _let her be_ and sat with her until her angry got less and less mad.

The new doctor was named Dr. Khan, and she worked all the way in a hospital for kids. She looked a little like Ema and had a voice like music, and she was even friends with Dr. Blake. Sophie would have liked her better if she hadn't made her do lots of tests that gave her a headache and made her eyes tired.

Sophie had to come back the next day for something called an MRI because of her eyes—Dr. Khan said she needed to be able to see how they worked. A nurse named Marie showed them what an MRI was so she would know what to expect and not be afraid, but she was scared anyway. An MRI was a long dark tube that you had to go into all by yourself—there was no room for Ema or Daddy. Marie said _not to worry, you'll be asleep the whole time_, but that didn't make it better.

Ema saw she was upset and picked her up and held her close close the way Sophie liked when she was sad or hurt or scared. They walked out of the hospital and back to the car that way, and Sophie wished Ema didn't have to put her down yet.

Daddy turned around in his seat and smiled big at her. "You were such a good cooperator for Dr. Khan today, Soph. I'm very proud. How about we get some ice cream before Ema and I take you back to school? If we hurry I bet you can make it back in time for art!"

Sophie began to pout—she didn't _want_ to go back to school today—maybe not ever. Her eye throbbed _123 123_ right along with her heart. She knew she could use her words but didn't feel like it, and began to cry.

"Baby," Daddy cooed, making his grown up worry face, "what's wrong?"

Ema pulled the car over and turned around in her seat. Cars whizzed passed them at lightning speed.

"Are you feeling scared, _motek_?"

She nodded.

"Is everything too loud?"

_Yes. _Sophie nodded mournfully and cried harder. Her glasses were foggy and her nose was running. Ema leaned further back and rubbed Sophie's leg in slow, calming circles.

"Do you need a quiet afternoon at home with Ema?" Daddy asked. Sophie nodded again, hiccupping. Quiet time with Ema was good. Maybe they would read stories in the big bed and then take a nap. Sophie was _tired_ and her head hurt. Marcy's smile flashed before her eyes and she hiccupped—Marcy ran away from her new house and they hadn't heard from her. Sophie wondered if she was at the beach—Marcy always talked about the beach.

"Ok, my baby. We will have quiet time after we bring Daddy to work. Take a deep breath for me, please."

Sophie took a wiggly breath and closed her eyes. Ziva's heart tore a little as she saw the small, frightened and tiny baby Sophie had been when she first came home to them. Was she still so vulnerable, so fragile, despite the progress she had been making by leaps and bounds? She fixed Tony with a loaded look and he nodded his understanding—Sophie was slipping back into the behaviors she had employed when she was first placed with them—crying jags, tantrums, clinginess. Ziva made a note to call her therapist and started the car up again, headed towards home.

…..

"How was this afternoon?" Tony asked, popping open a beer and leaning against the granite counter tops.

Ziva sighed. Everything felt heavy. "It was… difficult. She is very anxious about the MRI, and would not let me put her down."

Tony shook his head. "I hate this. It seems like one step forward, two steps back. I thought kindergarten would give her more independence, but it's making things worse."

"It is not necessarily school that is the cause of all this, although it is not helping. It seems as though these issues with her eyes would have come about no matter what."

He grimaced. "Yeah, I guess. I still don't like it, though. And now doesn't seem like the time to be expanding our family, either—she's not in a good place."

Ziva heart panged. _A baby, a baby_, it cried. "It will pass, but yes, perhaps we should hold off for a few months until she has adjusted better." Her lip quivered, disappointed, and he pulled her in for a hug.

"It's gonna happen, Zi, I promise. We have a beautiful family—it'll get bigger when it's time."

She nodded against his chest, heart still pumping _baby, baby, baby. _


	3. Chapter 3: Samson

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"_And we couldn't break the columns down, _

_No we couldn't destroy a single one. _

_And the history books forgot about us; _

_And the Bible didn't mention us, _

_Not even once."_

_Regina Spektor, Samson_

Sophie was nestled in her arms like a kitten, dressed in a thin hospital gown. Goosebumps rose on her skin and Tony lay his cashmere sweater over her shoulders. "That's better," He cooed, and Ziva smiled at him. He was such good father—she hoped he knew that. Sophie's eyelashes fluttered and she sucked her thumb harder.

"Don't want a test." She whined around her thumb. Her eyes were wide and wet.

"Do not worry, _shaifeleh_. The MRI will be over soon and you will be just fine."

They got no answer, and Tony dragged a hand over her hair. A child cried out down the hall and Sophie jumped a little.

There was a knock on the door, and Dr. Khan entered with Nadine, the nurse who'd gotten them settled, and a new doctor they did not recognize. "Morning," she greeted softly, taking in the way Sophie clung to Ziva like a drowning man clings to a life raft. "Almost ready to go?"

"Yeah," Tony answered, never taking his eyes off Sophie. "We want to get this over with."

Dr. Khan nodded fervently. "I understand. This is my colleague, Dr. Richard Baumbach—he's the anesthesiologist who will sedate Sophie for the MRI."

Dr. Baumbach was a large man in his late fifties with grey hair and kind eyes. He shook their hands with his enormous one and pulled out a clipboard. "Nice to meet you all. Nadine and I will give Sophie a mask with laughing gas to relax her, and then we'll insert the IV with the sedation and get the test underway. One of you can hold her and keep her calm until she's asleep, and then we'll take her up to radiology. Nadine and I will be monitoring her closely during and after the MRI before she's discharged. Any questions?"

"How long will the sedation last?" Tony asked.

Nadine interjected, reaching out her hands in a conversational tone. "Not much longer than the test itself. She might be drowsy or cranky the rest of the day, but that's it. It's perfectly safe."

Ziva nodded and hugged Sophie closer. "No needles," she whined pathetically.

Dr. Baumbach quirked a smile. "You wont feel a thing, I promise."

Nadine looked around at them and snapped on latex gloves. "Okay, which one of you is going to rock your baby to sleep?"

"Ema," Sophie answered for them, and clung tighter to Ziva.

Tony winked, but sobered quickly and put his mouth to Sophie's ear. She rested a hand on his stubbly cheek. "I'll see you after, baby girl. You are so brave—I love you."

Ziva turned Sophie around and cradled her like an infant. Dr. Baumbach turned a dial and lowered a mask to Sophie's face. She resisted, but Ziva shushed her and the medicine took effect quickly. Her eyes rolled, all loopy and sleepy, and Nadine cleaned her left hand with an alcohol swab before inserting the IV carefully. Sophie blinked, surprised but not distressed, and frowned a little.

"Sleep well, my baby," Ziva murmured, and kissed her forehead tenderly. She rocked a little and held on for a long minute. Sophie's eyes slid closed. A gurney had appeared out of nowhere, and Tony helped Ziva lay Sophie down among the thin blankets. She was fast asleep, mouth open. Nadine laid a strip of tape over her eyes.

"The hell is that for?" Tony demanded, his protectiveness going into overdrive. Nadine held a hand up, as if to say, _whoah, slow down. _

"It's standard procedure. Sedation can cause dry eyes and ocular injury—we're just staying one step ahead."

He nodded, unsure, as Dr. Khan took the handles of the gurney and began to push. "We'll be back soon. She's in good hands—don't worry."

Tony took Ziva's sweaty hand in his. They were quiet for a long time.

"She is so _little_," Ziva finally said, blinking at Sophie's elephant pajamas on the exam table. They were a size four.

"I know. But she's pretty darn fierce, too."

_Fierce_. Ziva thought of her own mother, petite and soft spoken, and how she had gathered she and Tali in the dead of night and gone to a small apartment by the sea, away from Eli. How she'd held them tight to her chest that first night, as if she expected Eli to barge in and take them away. She thought of Sophie, and how she had found her way to them, in spite of all that suffering. _Fierce_, indeed.

…..

_The closet was dark and cold and a little damp. Sophie sat in the corner with her knees to her chest—there were spiders everywhere. She didn't like the way they creepy crawled on her arm with their long, tickly legs. No one was anywhere. Sophie was hungry—how long had she been in here? Was her punishment over? Would it ever be over? She'd wet the bed like a baby and now she had to stop being a nuisance. What was nuisance? It sounded like a pest, or a vantz, like Ema would say. But she didn't have Ema. She didn't have Daddy either. How did she know them? Were they imaginary? _

_Mommy read a book to her, once, but then got angry when Sophie asked for it again and again. Nobody had time for her. Maybe that was nuisance. Did nuisance live in closets? Maybe she would never get let out, and have to live here forever. That was scary. The walls got smaller. She wanted out, out, so she banged on the door. The walls got smaller again. Would they crush her? _

"_Let me out!" She called, but no one answered. The walls got smaller still—it was so dark. Maybe she needed to say the magic word. _

"_Please! Please let me out!" _

_Someone kicked the door and all the bottles and brooms rattled around. "Shut up!" Mr. Williams yelled. He was angry, but Sophie didn't care because the walls were getting smaller and smaller and the spiders were all over her and she couldn't breathe right. She kept banging and banging but no one was coming. She was alone. Everyone forgot about her—Mommy, Ms. Andrea, Mr. Williams, Marcy, Ema, Daddy. Inside her chest felt hollow and sore. A spider tickled the corner of her mouth and she gagged. The walls were smaller again and now she couldn't move and she started to cry. _

_ "Let me out!" She cried, again and again. "Let me out". _

_Somewhere, someone was calling shaifeleh, shaifeleh, and she was banging, banging, banging…_

"_Shaifeleh,_" Ema was calling from far away. "_Motek_, it is time to wake up."

Sophie frowned and shook her head. The closet was gone. Were they at home? She wanted to keep sleeping in Ema and Daddy's bed. It was nighttime. Or was it morning? It was bright behind her eyelids. And loud—louder than their house. Oh. They were at the hospital for the tests. Was it over?

She opened her eyes, and blinked hard. It was bright white and swirly. The beeping got louder. Sophie closed her eyes again, but Daddy was asking her to open her eyes so soft and nicely. She wanted to see him, to make sure he was real.

And sure enough, there he was, smiling down into her face. Ema was there too—that's who was stroking her hair like _shh_.

"The MRI is over, _motek._ You were so brave, and now it is time to go home. How do you feel?"

Sophie grunted and rubbed her eyes. They felt gluey and a little sticky. How _did_ she feel? Sophie couldn't tell yet.

"Here, baby," Ema said, and wiped her eyes with a cool soft cloth from her big purse. The sticky glue feeling went away. Sophie suddenly felt very small and _very _lonely.

"Go home?" She begged. Her heart was pounding but she wasn't running.

"In a minute, sweet pea. Dr. Baumbach is just going to make sure you're all good and then we'll get you changed and head home."

She got checked out fast and Dr. Khan said _I'll call with the results in a few days _and then Daddy left to sign some papers and Ema put her in soft pants and a soft sweater.

Ema stroked her messy hair from behind her ears and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Are you feeling sad, Sophie?"

_No. Yes. Maybe. _She was hollow and empty, and her eyes burned. She reached for Ema and they hugged tight, but it wasn't close enough to fill the sad emptiness. Was Ema really real, really here, and all hers? She hugged and hugged to check. Ema was rubbing her back in long, slow circles—that was nice.

"I'm here," Ema whispered in her kind, quiet way. "I love you, sweet girl. I am not going anywhere."


	4. Chapter 4: Thistle and Weeds

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Chapter 4: _Thistle and Weeds_

"_But plant your hope with good seeds. _

_Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds. _

_Rain down, rain down on me."_

_Mumford and Sons, Thistle and Weeds_

Tony turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, careful to step over the squeaky floorboard. It was late—he'd missed dinner by hours, but he'd wanted to put in some overtime so he could take the day the next day to go to Sophie's follow up appointment with the ophthalmologist.

There were leftovers in the fridge—rice, breaded chicken cutlets, a zesty Israeli salad—and he ate quietly at the table, small TV in the corner tuned to ESPN. Post season baseball was in full swing. Maybe he'd take Sophie to a game once she was feeling better. How long would that take? He cleared his plate, turned the dishwasher on, and went upstairs to brush his teeth and throw on sweats.

Ziva was dozing in their bed with Sophie's head pillowed on her stomach. He smiled a little, and snuck out his phone to snap a picture. Ziva blinked blearily and smiled up at him.

"I did not hear you come in," she breathed, and pulled him down close for a kiss. "Did you eat?"

He nodded against her cheek. "Yeah—polished off the leftovers." Tony pulled back a little. "Scooch over—any room for me to join this slumber party?"

Ziva moved closer to the middle of the bed and he climbed in. The sheets were warm and soft on his skin, and he wrapped his arm around her, dropping a kiss on Sophie's curls.

"How was the day?"

Ziva shrugged. "Ok. I picked her up from school early—the nurse called because she was crying and complaining of a headache. They thought she would make herself sick."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but to whom he was unsure. Sophie mumbled in her sleep and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Ziva hummed a little and stroked her hair. They were quiet for a long time.

"I asked McDoctor to come to the appointment with us tomorrow—I hope that's ok," Tony finally said, not opening his eyes.

"Yes, that is fine. Tim is very knowledgeable—I am sure it will be helpful to have him there."

"That's what I thought. He turned so red when I asked him—he looked like a cherry tomato."

Ziva frowned. "Tim looks up to you, Tony. To have you ask for his help is a sign that you do not still see him as a probie who needs to be fazed, but as a respected colleague, as family."

"Hazed," he corrected halfheartedly. "But I guess. I said we'd pick him up and then drop him back at the Navy Yard when we're done—that ok?"

"Of course. Sophie will be excited to see him, anyway. Now, shush—we have a long day tomorrow, and I am tired."

"I love you," Tony whispered. "I love both of you."

Ziva hummed, Sophie hummed, and with that he was lulled to sleep by the sound of their breathing.

…

Dr. Khan's office was over-air conditioned and very, very bright. Sophie craned her neck to look up at her from where she sat perched on her lap.

"Um, Ema? I think we can be done now," she bargained, her eyes wide and innocent behind her glasses.

"Not yet, _shaifeleh—_we need to meet with Dr. Khan and talk about your eyes."

Sophie harrumphed and reached for Tony, who quirked a half smile at her and lifted her into his lap. "My eyes are bad and that's it!"

"They don't _have_ to be bad, baby, that's why we're here," Tony explained gently. Sophie said nothing, but continued to brood. Ziva caught Tim watching the whole exchanged with an interested, careful eye. She wanted to demand to know what he was thinking, but Dr. Khan slipped in and shut the door behind her.

"So," she began, smiling professionally, "how are we today? Sophie—how do you feel?"

They got no answer. "_Shaifeleh,_" Ziva prompted, "Dr. Khan asked you a question." Sophie pouted in stubborn silence. Ziva shrugged apologetically but Dr. Khan waved her hand, indicating that she should step in. "The headaches have gotten worse, and more frequent," Ziva reported, "And she complains that her left eye is 'zapping her'".

Dr. Khan nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me. That, combined with the tests we ran last week, and the MRI results, leads me to believe that Sophie has Extropic Strabismus in her left eye."

"What's—" Tony began, but Tim jumped in.

"It means that her eyes don't track together—they don't look at the same place at the same time, so her brain receives two different images. It would explain her complaints of double vision and headaches." He looked briefly at Dr. Khan, who nodded her approval. She quirked her head at Sophie, who was looking at the floor. Tony kissed her head, and Ziva ran a hand over her arm.

"Sophie? Do you have any questions so far?" Dr. Khan asked kindly, her hands deliberately placed on the table where Sophie could see them. She shook her head, and the doctor continued.

"Agent McGee is right. The diagnosis makes sense based on her history of severe farsightedness that was left untreated for many years, and then improperly treated during her time in foster care. Excessive farsightedness strains the eye muscles, and misaligns the eyes." Sophie put her hands over her ears and began to hum loudly, obnoxiously.

Ziva felt a hollow form in her chest. She was deeply saddened and _deeply _angry. Were they the first people to ever really listen to their daughter? Tony grunted and grabbed her hand—it was large and sweaty in her own. Ziva gently moved Sophie's hands away from her ears, and kept her voice light and even.

"_Shaifeleh?_ I understand if you are frustrated or want to be done listening, but Ema and Daddy and Uncle Tim need to focus so we can best decide how to help you. Can you try and listen to what Dr. Khan is saying, or at least let us?" Sophie's lower lip trembled and she reached for Ziva, who lifted her up off of Tony's lap and held her close. Sophie lay her head down on her mother's shoulder and sighed.

Tony didn't take his eyes off his daughter. "Can it be treated?"

Both Tim and Dr. Khan nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. Sophie is in the perfect age range for treatment to be fully successful. I think we've seen that stronger prescriptions for her glasses over the past year have not helped, and the MRI confirmed that it has become an issue within the musculature of her eye. I believe that Sophie would most benefit from a surgery on the muscles of her left eye. I will shorten the muscles and realign them with her right eye so they face forward. After she heals, we'll begin a patching routine on her right eye, so that her brain learns to receive signals from her left eye."

Sophie burrowed deeper. Ziva held her tighter as the hollow in her chest grew.

Tony looked stricken. "Is it—will it be a painful—"

McGee shook his head. "It's a small procedure, and fairly common. Dr. Khan has done hundreds of these surgeries. Sophie is in good hands, Tony."

Dr. Khan smiled her thanks and kept her tone light and even. "It _is_ a small procedure—it shouldn't take me more than an hour or so, and she'll be discharged the same day. I have some pamphlets here about the surgery, and what to expect afterwards. Sophie will recover quickly—most patients only miss a week of school." She grew more serious. "However, this will not correct her vision. It may help—she might not need as strong a prescription for her eye glasses once the patching routine is over, but she will likely still be somewhat farsighted, though not as severely. With the surgery, there is virtually little to no chance she will sustain permanent vision loss in her left eye. We'll reevaluate her scrip post op."

"When will the surgery occur?" Ziva piped up. Her voice sounded hoarse and small—she _felt_ small. Small and ineffective.

"As soon as possible. I've already spoken to my Chief of Surgery—we have an OR open on Monday morning at eight am, if that sounds good to you. Sophie will be discharged around noon."

Ziva blinked, feeling vaguely stunned. "It is Wednesday. Not even a week—"

"I understand if you feel like you need more time to prepare Sophie, but it is imperative that this surgery happens as soon as possible. The sooner we get in there, the better the outcome will be." Dr. Khan softened then. "We have a social worker standing by to talk to you about what to expect, and how to prepare Sophie for the idea of an operation."

Ziva's throat ached and her eyes burned, but she nodded. "I understand. Monday morning it is."

Dr. Khan stood and stuck her hand out for a firm, professional handshake. "Great. I'll book the OR. Be on the floor by 6:30—we'll need time to take blood samples and admit her. And no food after midnight the night before."

"Thanks, doc," Tony said, his tone overformal. He gathered up the pamphlets in his big, sturdy hands. "We'll see you next week."

….

After they left stupid Dr. Khan's office they had to talk to a stupid lady named Amy who talked to them about the stupid surgery Sophie needed to have. She showed lots of pictures and talked about what happened in hospitals and how surgery worked. Sophie didn't want to listen, but Ema and Daddy told her she had to, that it was important to hear about it so she wouldn't be afraid, and Sophie was almost always good listener for them.

She got to learn about _anesthesia _like from the stupid test, and about how Ema and Daddy would be next door the whole time and that it would go so quick that she wouldn't even realize she'd been asleep. She learned that when the operation was done Dr. Khan might put covers on both her eyes for a little while so that her eyes could rest and get better faster. She got to try out the funny cap she'd have to wear on her hair, and the mask that Dr. Khan would wear to be careful of germs. They even took a trip to visit where the surgery would happen, which was big cold room with a bed and lots of lights that would help Dr. Khan see Sophie's eyes during the operation.

Amy introduced her to Faith, who was nice and gave Sophie a lollipop—she would be the nurse who made sure she was ok during surgery. Faith had glasses like the colors of the rainbow and hair that was shorter and even curlier than Ema's. She had two daughters named Sarah and Olivia, and guess what, Olivia had a small surgery in her mouth last week and now she was just fine because she ate a milkshake and took a long rest. Sarah and Olivia were grown up girls who went away to a school called college, which Daddy said meant Faith didn't pick them up after school every day, they slept there all the time. That wasn't fair—didn't they miss their Mommy? Didn't Faith miss them? Sophie didn't want to go to college—she didn't want to go to her school, either, but the stupid hospital lady named Amy said _routine is important_ so Sophie had to go tomorrow anyway.

Sleeping in Ema and Daddy's bed was the best part of Sophie's routine. It was warm and cozy and perfect for snuggling in there under all the blankets. She _liked_ being pickle in the middle. Ema and Daddy always read her books before bed. Sometimes Sophie fell asleep while they were still reading, but not tonight. Ema put down _Caps For Sale_ on the floor and pulled Sophie nice and close. Ema smelled like her flowery soap and clean laundry. Mommy—Rachel— made an angry face before her eyes and she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut tighter. Would that stop happening after the surgery? Sophie hoped so, and also didn't. Ema was making the scared go away by humming and rubbing Sophie's back. That was nice. Everything was heavy and warm.

"Goodnight, my _shaifeleh_", she whispered. Daddy gave her a kiss on her _kepi_ and turned off the light. "Sleep well, baby."


	5. Chapter 5: 10,000 Miles

**Thank you to each and every one of you who left, and leave, such kind, supportive, and wonderful reviews. Thank you to those who read—I am happy even if you just stop by. **

**Mecha: all the xo's. **

**I could not post without addressing the hateful remark left on my last chapter that expressed disgust at the fact that Ziva is not working outside the home at this point in time. All people- all mothers- are people, whether or not they are employed outside of their children. It is not disgusting—it is a difficult and underappreciated job. Maybe Ziva will go back to work one day, maybe she wont—but if she does it will not be because of someone who felt the need to express their haughty disdain. That is all I will say on the matter. **

Chapter 5: 10,000 Miles

"_Fare thee well, _

_My own true love."_

_10,000 Miles, Mary Chapin Carpenter_

Ziva startled herself awake in the din, blinking furiously and breathing heavily. It took a moment to adjust to her surroundings. Tony snored lightly beside her. Sophie had herself wrapped around Ziva, her arm flung across Ziva's middle. Her warm weight slowed Ziva's pulse. Ziva strained her neck to look at the alarm clock—4:42 am. They would need to get up in an hour to get ready to bring Sophie to Children's for her operation.

Ziva rolled to face Sophie, careful not to jostle her too much, and nestled down close enough that their noses almost touched. Ziva tucked a stray hair behind Sophie's ear and hummed a little. Sophie had soft, babyish curls that framed her round, babyish face. Ziva put Moroccan oil over it every night after her bath so it didn't frizz. Her lashes were impossibly long and dark, and left delicate shadows on her cheeks. Her rosebud mouth was slack with sleep. She was a sweet, sweet girl— Ziva's sweet, sweet girl. Tony said that in the right light, they could be sisters.

_Sisters._ Would Tali have been a good Aunt? Would she still live in Tel Aviv, or have followed Ziva to the states? She may have- Tali was compassionate, bright and beautiful, but was also a self absorbed teenager who had never taken on- or been asked to take on- much responsibility. Following their mother's death she had relied on Ziva for almost everything—laundry, meals, homework help, and signatures on her report cards. Tali had tugged on her _Ziva- Ziva –Ziva _until the day she was blown to bits in that café, and then she tugged on Ziva's sore, empty heart from beneath her exquisite headstone, but instead of _Ziva-Ziva-Ziva _it was _why me- why me- why me_.Ziva did not have the answer. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she wasn't exactly sure why.

Sophie moaned softly and rolled over, nestling into Tony's side. He instinctively put his arm around her, and Ziva had to blink back tears. She was not alone in this. Ziva did not realize she had fallen asleep again until her alarm clock began to shrill.

"M'up," Tony blurted, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Sophie slept on undisturbed—the past few days had been difficult, and Sophie's anxiety and headaches had kept them awake most nights. Ziva carefully got out of bed and gave Tony a kiss before she hopped in the shower. She was not in the mood to share. She dried off and dressed quickly, but not before glancing at the overcast day outside. Her wet curls would freeze in the early morning chill.

Tony met her on her way back to the master bedroom. "I made coffee— give me twenty minutes and then we can go. I'll start the car." She nodded and went to the bed, where Sophie was awake and blinking lazily.

"Good morning, _motek_," Ziva offered tenderly, sitting in the crook of her hips. "Today is a big day—are you ready?"

Sophie lay her head down on Ziva's lap and sighed. Ziva hummed and stroked her back, her hair. She didn't want to rush, but they needed to get moving. Maybe she should have forgone the shower and given Sophie more time to wake up, but she had a feeling she would have her hands full in the coming days.

"_Shaifeleh," _she prodded after a long moment. Sophie held on tighter. "It is time to go to the hospital so Dr. Khan may fix your eye. Daddy is warming up the car—you do not even have to get dressed, you may wear your cozy pajamas out."

Sophie did not respond, just blinked up at Ziva, bottom lip trembling.

"Come, _motek_," Ziva sighed, shifting so she could pick Sophie up out of bed, where she rested her head in the crook of Ziva's shoulder. "You are going to be ok. Ema and Daddy will keep you safe, and we will be back home later today. Coats on, and then we will go. Would you like to take a special toy with you?"

"I want Daddy's sweatshirt," Sophie bargained softly. Ziva smiled a little—Sophie had recently become very attached to an old, ratty sweatshirt of Tony's from college. It _was_ soft and well loved, and doubled easily as a blanket. Ziva snagged it from among the sheets and Sophie held it to her face.

"Okay," She whispered, locking the door behind them. "We are on our way."

…..

One time Sophie had to go to the hospital because someone—Sophie couldn't remember his name, and maybe that was a good thing—pushed her down the steps and she banged her head against floor so hard she saw stars like the ones at night out her bedroom window. She didn't remember how Ms. Andrea got there, but then they were going all the way to the hospital to visit a doctor who shone a light in her dizzy eyes. She never went back to that mean house, even though she'd left her bunny there. Was he still in her bedroom, waiting for her to come back?

Sophie would go back to her house with Ema and Daddy after Dr. Khan finished the stupid surgery on her eye. It was too cold for the little ugly dress they made her wear, and Daddy's sweatshirt wasn't allowed in the surgery room. Neither were Ema or Daddy, even though Sophie wanted them to stay. They had to wait a long time after nurse Tessa came to take away some of Sophie's blood. They read stories and Sophie was allowed to watch one Arthur on Daddy's phone, the one where D.W had to have a surgery on her ear. After that Ema and Daddy were cranky grumbling about waiting. They were having a hard time being patient, which was funny, because usually it was _Sophie_ who had a hard time being patient. Today Sophie was ok with waiting—maybe Dr. Khan would forget about them and she wouldn't have to do the surgery and she could go home.

But then Faith the surgery nurse came in and said _it's time _so Dr. Khan didn't forget and scared zapped Sophie all the way from her heart to her stomach. It started to feel all topsy turvy and sick, and her face got hot like it was summer outside. No one was listening when she said no, not even Ema and Daddy. Daddy gave her a big hug and kiss and wiped away her tears and said "_I love you, brave girl", _before Ema carried her back to a different room with a rocking chair and a big sink. Faith the nurse held Sophie nicely while Ema put on weird hospital clothes and washed her hands with special soap. Ema took her from Faith and they got to sit in the rocking chair and rock nice and soft and slow.

"My baby," Ema whispered in her ear, "my sweet, brave _Shaifeleh. _I love you very much. Your Daddy and I will be waiting for you right outside the whole time."

Before she could say _don't go, Ema, _a doctor she didn't know lowered a mask over Sophie's face and something smelled sweet and mediciney and then Ema's humming and sweet, secret whispers in her special language were carrying her far, far away.

…

When the head scrub nurse came out to the waiting room, all Tony felt was relief. The weighted worry he'd been feeling was lifted, at least marginally. He knew it had only been an hour and fifteen minutes since Ziva had come out of the pre-op room, but it had felt like an eternity to him. To _them. _

"Sophie did beautifully," Faith assured them with an easy smile. "Do you want to come back and see her? Dr. Khan will meet you back in recovery to discuss everything in detail with you."

"Yes," Ziva begged, "we need to see her." Tony noticed the _need_ instead of _want_, but nodded in agreement and grabbed Ziva's hand. Faith led them through a set of double doors and down a long hallway to a small recovery room with an even smaller window. Tony's stomach dropped when he saw Sophie, sleeping, with an oxygen cannula and both eyes covered with patches.

"Oh," Ziva managed, and went to her side. Sophie looked small and fragile and Tony suddenly felt overwhelmed. The worry weight was back, perhaps heavier than before.

"Dr. Khan wants her eyes to rest for a few hours until she goes home," Faith explained, checking Sophie's chart. "She should be coming around from the anesthesia—help her wake up. She might be disoriented or anxious because of the patches—make sure she knows you're here. Dr. Khan will be in shortly."

Ziva nodded and took Sophie's small hand in hers. Tony ran a finger down her cheek. "Sophie, baby," he called softly, and she moaned a little. "That's right, sweet heart, it's time to wake up."

Sophie became agitated quickly. Her heart-rate rose with the quickened _beep-beep-beep _of the monitor. "_Daddy?" _She begged, her voice thick with tears. She moved her head frantically from side to side. "_Daddy?"_ Her voice became high and anxious.

"We are here, _shaifeleh_," Ziva soothed, stroking Sophie's hair and forehead. "Ema and Daddy are right here. Dr. Khan has patches on your eyes so that your eyes can rest after surgery, which is why you can't see, but we are right here, _motek."_

"Off!" She commanded, and Tony held her hands between his so she wouldn't try to peel the patches off herself.

"Soon, baby. Surgery is over and you did great."

"I want it off," Sophie begged again, blubbering a little. She reached blindly for them. Tony's heart broke. Dr. Khan knocked lightly on the door and Sophie jumped, crumbling into a fresh wave of tears.

"You can cuddle her," Dr. Khan allowed softly, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "Just be mindful of the cannula and IV." Ziva climbed next to Sophie on the narrow bed and Tony helped her gently settle her in her lap. "There you go, _buba", _Ziva whispered in her ear, holding her tightly. "Ema is here."

Sophie sucked her thumb furiously and let her head fall to the side. Tony smoothed her hair, and eventually her hiccups slowed. Ziva hummed a lullaby and soon she was asleep again. He hadn't even noticed that Dr. Khan had pulled a chair up to the bed, ready to speak with them.

"The surgery was successful," she reported quietly, not wanting to disturb Sophie. "Her left eye has been realigned with her right and there is no sign of residual damage. We'll take the patches off a little before she's released so I can do a quick exam. Her left eye might be red and a little itchy for a few days, but she shouldn't be in too much pain. Children's Tylenol and soothing eye drops will do the trick. The redness should fade within a week or so. I'll make sure you schedule a follow up appointment with me for next week."

Tony nodded. "What about the patching routine?"

Dr. Khan nodded. "Tomorrow. You'll need to cover her right eye for six hours a day for about the next six months so that her brain learns to receive and interpret signals properly from her left eye." She grew serious. "Patching can be difficult for children—it's disorienting and takes a little to get used to, and, coupled with Sophie's trauma history, she may have a hard time with it. Many parents find a sticker chart—"

Ziva cut her off. "We have a sticker chart prepared, and we discussed it with her over the weekend."

Dr. Khan nodded and rose from her chair. "Good. I'll be back in a few hours to do a brief exam before we let you go."

"See you then, doc" Tony allowed, and rubbed Sophie's curls. His chest felt tight. Ziva knew—she always knew—and she beckoned for him to join her on the cot. She leaned against his chest and he wrapped his arms around them both. Sophie stirred. "Off," she commanded again, lazily.

"Soon, baby," Ziva whispered. Sophie settled again with a deep, sleepy sigh.

"I hate that what's going to make her better is going to upset her," He whispered. Ziva nodded and looked at him, steady and sure.

"I know. It will be difficult, but we will get through it." She paused and brushed her free hand over his wedding band. "You are a good father, Tony. An exceptional one."

His chest tightened further and his eyes burned, but not with sadness—pride, maybe. "You're an exceptional mom."

Ziva smiled softly. "And Sophie is our exceptional daughter."

"Yeah," he agreed, a little awed, a little calmer. "She sure is."


	6. Chapter 6: Blackbird

**Thank you to each and every one of you. It means so much that you take the time to read this—I love that I get to share it with y'all. Love and more love. This is a tough one, so hang on. Xoxo's. **

**Thanks a million: Mecha**

Chapter 6: Blackbird

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night, _

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see. _

_All your life, _

_You were only waiting for this moment to be free."_

_The Beatles, Blackbird_

"No."

Ziva sighed groaned internally but kept her tone firm and even. "Sophie, this is not a discussion. You need to put the patch on—"

"No!" She shrilled, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her left eye was still bloodshot from surgery, and Sophie reached to rub it before Tony intercepted.

"No rubbing, Soph. Do you want ice?"

"_NO!"_

Ziva had to take a deep breath. She pointed, again, at the sticker chart that was hung on the refrigerator. "Sophie, if you cannot put on the patch without a tantrum, you will not get a sticker. If you can do it without making a fuss, you will earn a sticker, and that will bring you closer to getting a special surprise from the toy store."

"I don't like it! I don't want a toy and I _don't _want that!" Her face was red from tantruming for the better part of an hour, and her hair was wild and sweaty. Her lower lip trembled, but when Ziva reached out to rub her arm she jerked away and covered her eyes.

"Sophie," Tony began slowly, "I want you to look at me." She did, eventually, pouting.

"I know you were scared yesterday when you woke up from surgery and couldn't see because of the patches on your eyes. I get that. But this isn't like that—you'll still be able to use your left eye to see, and Ema and I will be right here to help you the whole time to get used to it. Dr. Khan gave you this so you can see better and not get those yucky headaches anymore. It's important that we follow her directions."

"I don' _want_ it." Sophie pleaded. "If you put it on I will take it off forever."

"Then you will not earn a sticker, and we will put another patch on."

"I'll throw that one away too," She challenged.

"So we will start over again. The patch has to stay on a whole six hours—if you take it off we will have to continue to start over and that will make it longer." Tony stated plainly, shrugging a little.

Sophie was running out of steam—there were dark circles under her eyes and she was getting paler. She would be due for more Tylenol and eye drops to soothe the burning in her healing eye soon. Ziva recognized that her stubborn-ness was more out of fear and insecurity than anything else, and tried a different approach.

"Would it make you feel better if I wore the patch with you today?"

Sophie seemed to ponder this. She shrugged in a way that meant, _maybe_.

"I will wear it with you today—we will do it together."

Sophie frowned. Ziva nodded at Tony, and he raised his eyebrows. "Ok, Ema," he said theatrically, "here we go." He lowered a patch onto Ziva's right eye so she would match Sophie. Ziva kept a straight face but blinked a little to adjust. Everything in her line of focus sort of shifted.

"See, not so bad?" Ziva encouraged. "Now it is your turn."

Tony prepared a fresh patch and came closer to Sophie. She turned red, grabbed it from him, and crumbled it up. "No!"

"That kind of behavior doesn't earn you a sticker, kiddo. I'm going to try again—you have one last chance to earn a sticker for today, but either way you're going to wear the patch with Ema."

Sophie looked back and forth at them in an almost comical way, sizing them up. She stilled eventually and balled up her fists when Tony patched her right eye again. She inhaled sharply, and Ziva took her hands and tried to flatten her fists.

"Good job, baby. What sticker do you want for today?"

"I _hate _stickers!" She shrieked, and tore the chart down and ripped it down the middle. Her face grew red and her left eye narrowed angrily.

"Hey," Tony started lowly, but Sophie screamed loud enough to send the birds outside flying out of their nest and pushed him as hard as she could. She grew angrier when nothing happened and began to hit Tony with sloppy fists.

"Sophie Mae DiNozzo," Tony warned, his voice low and firm. Authoritative, but not harsh. "You may _not _hit me. We use our words, not our hands to say how we feel. That is unacceptable."

Sophie screamed again, higher this time, and threw herself on the floor, kicking and screaming. Ziva's eyes widened but she picked her daughter up.

"Sophie? I think you need to take a break. You have lost your self-control, and are acting in a way that is hurting both your Daddy and me. We will take you to your Time Out chair until you can calm down."

Tony had to steady Ziva by the arm as she walked through the living room with a livid Sophie in her arms. She deposited her in the overstuffed armchair, where Sophie continued to kick her feet and cry, frustrated.

"Daddy and I will be in the kitchen. You can let us know when you are ready to rejoin us." Sophie cried on and tossed a throw pillow across the room as they went back into the kitchen. They could see her from where they settled around the kitchen island.

Tony ran his hands over his face. "Jeez. I don't think I've ever seen her so angry or destructive."

Ziva nodded. "I know. She may fall asleep after this, so it is good we started early in the day. We may need to adjust to make sure she gets the full six hours of awake patching time."

"Speaking of, you can take your patch off for now, while she's in the other room."

Ziva shook her head. "No. It would feel wrong. Anyway, she may come back in any minute—I want to keep my promise."

He nodded thoughtfully and took a swig of his coffee. It was cold, but he didn't feel like making a fresh pot. They stayed like that for a while, listening to the rain pitter-patter on the roof, to Sophie's tantrum dissipate into loud sniffles. She stumbled into the kitchen with wild hair and a streaky, puffy face.

"Hello, baby," Ziva greeted mildly. "Are you ready to come be with us?" Sophie nodded and approached them. She held the patch in her hand and looked at them timidly.

"I'm ready," she whispered, and traipsed over to them. "'M sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry." She teared up again, and Tony swept her into a hug. "Hey, don't cry. Thank you for saying that- I forgive you."

"I'm sorry," she reiterated, blubbering. "I'm sorry!"  
>"Sha, baby. We all loose our self-control sometimes. What is important is that we learn how to deal with our feelings in ways that do not hurt others or yourself."<p>

"I wanna stay!" Sophie almost begged, grasping Tony's sleeves hard. Ziva rubbed her back.

"Sophie, we adopted you. You are our daughter forever, no matter what."  
>"Yeah," Tony added, "in melt-down and in health. We love you, sweet pea- no ones going anywhere, I promise. We love you."<p>

Sophie blew out a shaky breath and lowered her tired head to Tony's shoulder. "I need a new one," she moaned miserably, holding up her forgotten eye patch.

"Yes," Ziva agreed. "But you are very tired- do you want to take a short rest before lunch and then we can try again? You'll have to keep it on this time. Perhaps you will help me make a new sticker chart."

Sophie yawned, exhausted, and settled in all the way across Tony's chest. Her eyelids dropped. "Not tired," she slurred around her thumb.

"Sha," Ziva murmured. Sophie drifted off quickly, and they deposited her among the blankets and pillows in her own bed. She didn't stir, finally peaceful.

….

"How is the soup, _motek_?" Ziva asked. Sophie nodded at her enthusiastically—she had her mouth full of matzo ball soup. Her pink cotton t-shirt was covered in spills, and somehow there was a noodle tucked in her curls. Sophie had perked up after her nap, and allowed them to put the patch on with less of a fuss. She'd even agreed to help Ziva make a new sticker chart to replace the one she'd destroyed earlier in the day.

"I don't think she likes it at all, babe," Tony teased, quirking a knowing eyebrow at her.

"I like it!" Sophie insisted, a little offended, her mouth still full.

"Chew and swallow before you talk, please," Ziva coached. "Daddy should know not to be so silly when you are eating." Her phone rang, and she got up to answer it where it was charging on the kitchen counter.

"Hello?" There was garbled babbling in the background.

"Hi, Ziva? It's Laura, April's mom. How are you?"

_Oh. _Something bitter and jealous worked its way up Ziva's throat, but she swallowed around it. "Yes, of course. I am well, thanks, and you?"

"Oh I'm fine, just the usual. Listen, I'm running errands in your area, and I have a _Get Well Soon _card that the class made for Sophie. Is now a good time for me to drop it off?"

Ziva peeked over her shoulder back to the kitchen table, where Tony was reading Sophie a book while she finished her lunch. "Yes," Ziva replied, almost a little too enthusiastically. Who knew how long Sophie's good mood would last?

"That is very kind of you. Do you need our address?"

"Perfect! And nope, I've got it. See you in ten!" The line clicked off. Ziva ran a hand through her hair.

"Who was that, mama?" Tony asked.

"That was April's mommy. Your classmates made you a feel better card, Sophie, and she is stopping by to drop it off. Isn't that nice, baby?"

"Yeah," Sophie answered disinterestedly. "Daddy? Keep reading."

"I am going to freshen up—I will be down in a moment."

Ziva made her way up the stairs and into their bathroom. She peered at her reflection in the mirror—she looked _tired_. When was the last time she'd put on makeup? She needed to change out of her old jeans and t-shirt and into something... presentable. She suddenly felt very small and plain. Ziva put some cream and concealer on the bags under her eyes, swiped on some foundation and a little blush. Would mascara be too much? She did not want to look like she was trying too hard, and decided to forgo it. Nice, dark wash jeans, and a teal sweater that was dry-clean only. She briefly considered giving her engagement ring a quick polish—a beautiful, classic diamond solitaire that she knew Tony was proud of—but shook her head. What was she trying to prove?

Tony raised his eyebrows at her when she came back downstairs, but said nothing other than "You look beautiful". She scoffed a little at him and put Sophie's empty bowl in the sink. She suddenly felt warm and self- conscious—she needed to straighten up, to sweep the floors and wipe down the counters. Ziva could not remember the last time anyone besides family had been over. Tony stood and put a hand on the small of her back.

"Take a breath," he whispered in her ear. She obliged, but twisted the dishrag around her hand to try and get rid of that bitterness. The doorbell rang, and Ziva wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.

A large red minivan sat on the curb outside their house. Laura wore her baby in a wrap on her chest, and juggled her big leather purse and an overfull grocery bag. The hollow in her chest opened suddenly and without warning.

Ziva opened the door quickly and ushered her in. "Hello," she greeted awkwardly. "Welcome. May I take something?"

"Sure," Laura allowed, and handed over the grocery bag before following Ziva into the kitchen. "Careful though, it's heavy. There's a baked ziti in there."

Ziva flushed red. "That is very generous of you. You did not have to—"

Tony cruised in with Sophie on his hip. He'd changed her into a fresh t-shirt and soft, drawstring sweatpants. "Have to what?"

"Laura brought us a baked ziti—which was entirely too much—"

Laura waved a dismissive hand at her. "Don't worry about it. I cook meals in bulk anyway, so it was no trouble at all. I know how hard it is to get motivated to cook when you have a man down."

"Thanks," Tony offered, a boyish grin on his face as he peeled back the tinfoil on the casserole dish. "My favorite."

Ziva shifted awkwardly. "Sophie, can you say thank you to April's mommy?"

"Thank you," she muttered, resting her head on Tony's shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Sophie?" Laura asked, adjusting her expensive sunglasses on top of her head.

"I have a patch," Sophie informed her in a tone that conveyed grave severity.

"I can see that, but it's pink and it's _very _pretty. April misses playing with you at school—she wanted to make sure that I gave you this along with the card your classmates made." Laura rummaged around in her purse and furnished a child's drawing, complete with a castle and stick figures and a sweet attempt at writing out each of their names. The _E _in Sophie was backwards, and the spacing was off, but the message was obvious.

"That was so kind of April," Ziva supplied when Sophie just stared at the picture, open-mouthed.

"Yeah," Sophie agreed. An awkward silence descended on them, and Ziva berated herself internally. Her mother had been a beautiful and gracious host, and had always welcomed guests with ease. Why couldn't she? Ziva couldn't draw her gaze away from the baby, and flushed hot red with shame when Laura caught her staring.

"May I offer you some coffee or tea?" She finally managed when Tony steadied her with a strong hand on her shoulder.

"No, that's all right. I should get going soon—but would you mind terribly if I asked you to hold Jamie while I used your restroom?"

_Yes. _"Not at all," Ziva answered, surprised at herself. When was the last time she had allowed herself hold a baby? She could feel Tony watching her. Ziva held her breath, a little awed as Laura untangled the wrap and handed her the baby. "The bathroom is down the hall—the first door on your left."

"Thank you! I don't think she'll fuss, but I'll be quick."

"Take your time," she allowed, but was not sure if Laura heard her. Jamie blinked up at her with wide, blue eyes. Her chin creased, and but she did not cry. Tony came up behind her and put his big, strong hand on Ziva's shoulder.

"She's cute," he offered.

"Yes," Ziva managed, and found herself offering the baby her finger to squeeze. Jamie blinked again, and Ziva felt the hollow in her chest grow. There was that sharp pang of jealously low in her belly that set her heart beating _baby baby baby_.

"That's April's sister. She's jus' a baby." Sophie informed them, laying her head down on Tony's shoulder.

"Yes, she is."

"What do babies do?"

It burned to talk around the lump in her throat. "They sleep, and they eat, and they learn to do things like talk and play."

"They make smelly diapers too," Tony interjected lightly.

"_I _didn't," Sophie defended.

They had to laugh at that. "Yeah, I'm sure you did, babe. All babies do—even your Ema and I made stinky diapers when we were babies."

"You're not babies," Sophie puzzled. Jamie yawned and scrunched up her perfect little face.

"We are not now, _shaifeleh_, but we were many years ago. Everyone starts out as a baby."

Sophie shrugged and turned away, obviously bored with the conversation. The sink in the bathroom ran and then Laura strode back in with damp hands.

"Thank you so much. It's no fun going with a baby strapped to your chest, let me tell you. How was she? I didn't hear any tears."

Ziva had to steel herself when she handed Jamie back. She had to compose herself and check her tone before she could answer. "She was perfect—not a squeak."

"Peep," Tony corrected automatically.

"Well, great. I've got to go, but please let me know if I can do anything else for you while Sophie's still on the mend." Ziva nodded and walked her to the door. "Thank you for everything, really—it was very generous of you. And please thank April for the drawing—I know Sophie really appreciated it."

"Anytime," she said easily, _easily, _and walked back to her minivan where she strapped the baby into her seat.

...

Ziva jumped when Tony came up behind her and gave her shoulder a gentle shake. "Its late," he whispered, "come to bed." She shook her head, eyes burning with unshed tears, and he sat down beside her, taking her soft hands in his.

"Talk to me, Zi." Ziva bit her lip and turned away. What was there to say? It took a long time before she could gather the strength to speak around that bitter lump in her throat.

"I want a baby," she choked out. The tears fell freely then, unbidden. "I want a baby so badly it's all I can think about sometimes. And then I feel guilty for how much I want one, because we _have_ a daughter, and she is _our_ baby, but she's not a baby. And I love her so much—more than I could ever express, Tony, but it's not the same, and I hate myself for feeling like there's something missing and— and it _hurts_ to want something you can't have—"

"We can start the adoption process again—"

"I _know_ we can, but that does not mean that it does not _kill_ me to see women like Laura who are ten or twelve years older than me getting pregnant and having baby after baby without even thinking about it when we tried and tried for _years_ but I _can't_!" She cried harder still, and Tony pulled her close.

"I know," he soothed. "I know. I'm sorry."

Something in Tony's apology made her push him away with both hands to his broad chest.

"_You _have nothing to be sorry for. _I _am the one who cannot give you—us—that. It is _my _fault."

Tony ducked his head to meet her gaze and brushed her hair away from her face. "Hey," he said softly, "It's not your fault—it's Saleem and his men's fault, and maybe even your father's fault, but it's not _your_ fault. We just need to make our family in a different way."

An old wound opened back up, suddenly and without warning. She was quiet for a long time. "I got pregnant in Somalia".

He took her hand. "I know," he breathed.

"I lost the baby. That is part of the reason why I cannot get pregnant now."

His eyes were wide and wet. "I know."

"I hate that I could… that it was… that _they_ did that to me, and in such a way that made it impossible for me to make a baby with my husband. I hate that it was them who took that from me—from us."

"I know," he whispered. "I hate what they did to you. I hate that they hurt you, and that it has to keep hurting. I hate that I can't fix it. But you give me and Sophie _everything_. _You_ are everything to us. I don't want you to forget that."

Ziva blinked, a little stunned. _Everything. _

"I love you," Tony added, chancing a kiss to her brow. She leaned into him, exhausted. _Everything. _

She felt heavy and light at the same time. "I love you, too."

"We'll figure this thing out."

_We. _"I know."


End file.
